


Possession

by AnastasiaNoelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe mafia, Cockwarming, F/M, Light Choking, Mention of Captivity, Rough Sex, mention of Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnastasiaNoelle/pseuds/AnastasiaNoelle
Summary: Time ticked by so slowly, the tension in the air thick like the honey color of his eyes. This situation was far too intimate, too viscous with emotions for you to feel comfortable. In the arms of a crime boss was a dangerous place to be, and in his lap was perhaps an even more precarious position.
Relationships: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 207





	Possession

Time ticked by so slowly, the tension in the air thick like the honey color of his eyes. This situation was far too intimate, too viscous with emotions for you to feel comfortable. In the arms of a crime boss was a dangerous place to be, and in his lap was perhaps an even more precarious position. Not like you had a choice in the matter, anyways. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was a brusque man; he was consistently aware of the borders of his composure. He had the prerogative to take whatever he desired and, much to your chagrin, his craving for the month just so happened to be you. 

“Stop squirming.” 

His broad shoulders rolled back against his office chair at his words, thick neck tilting his stern features to look up at you. 

Your legs were burning from being stretched across his muscular thighs, a deep-seated ache brewing in your lower back. You’d been here for too long, in his personal space, smelling his skin, feeling his body against yours, that it felt like you couldn’t remember where his limbs began and yours ended. The insides of your bare thighs under your dress felt like they had become one with the wool blend of his slacks.

“How much longer?” you breathed softly, shifting your weight so your back rested against the edge of his desk. His large hands flexed against your hips, like they were preparing for a struggle.

“We haven’t even started.” He tutted, something malign glinting in his elegantly shaped eyes. 

A tremor of panic raced underneath your skin, stemming from your heart. 

“What? You just said you wanted company while you worked, and we’ve been here for…” you trailed off, realizing you had truly lost track of time. 

“You haven’t been here long. Besides, my day has barely begun.”

Late evening light was filtering into the expansive office through roman shades.

You’d nearly forgotten that the underworld didn’t wake until dark. 

Your shoulders slumped, your body settling into the seams of his own. You sunk into him, nestling your face into the starched collar of his dress shirt. 

One of his hands slid up your back, a large, open palm coming to rest against the curve of your head. It was almost an endearing act.

“You’ll get used to being with me.” 

The deep rumble of his vocal cords tickled your nose.

You hated to admit it, but he was right. Over the weeks you’d grown more accustomed to being in his presence, you’d picked up on his social ques and placed yourself into the gaps of his world. If only you didn’t have to.

Your hands curled against his hard chest as you remembered the immense fear you felt when you were first brought to him and laid at the feet of the most ruthless predator in the concrete jungle of Tokyo. 

He kept you in the dark as to why he wanted you–a lowly television reporter–of all people. You’d never even covered a news story on the Shiratorizawa mafia, or any kind of crime syndicate for that matter. Your job was to cover the melodramas of the city, to report on the leisures of celebrities and the scandals of the rich and famous. But for some reason, Ushijima chose you. When you asked him why, he always gave you a very simplistic, “Because I wanted to.”

For him, acquiring wants and fulfilling desires was so disgustingly effortless.

You had stopped fighting him early on; you figured falling into Stockholm syndrome was more beneficial to your survival than dying by an agitated hand around your throat. Ushijima was just that intimidating—he could kill you with a twist of his wrist, bury you in a shallow grave and never see the light of consequences. His pockets ran deep across the city, no one would bat an eyelash at the death of an uncooperative play toy.

And that’s what you were: a novelty, a possession. 

A strong tug on the back of your neck had you lifting your head up to face him once more.

“What are you thinking about?”

His directness was something you had come to expect. And you’d learned that honesty was the best policy. 

“About how much I don’t want to be here right now.”

His hand shifted around your neck to your face, heavy thumb stroking at the apple of your cheek. Amber irises flickered over your features as if he were debating something.

“Well then, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Ushijima pulled your mouth to his, smothering any protest you might have had with the melding of lips. You groaned, more troubled with yourself for finding pleasure against his mouth than for his sudden intrusion of even more of your space. His taste was still so foreign yet alarmingly familiar: a mixture of the sweet notes of fruit that were distilled into his favorite sake and the crispness of fresh tonic against ice.

You fell into him a little too easily, your fingers uncurling against his shirt and instead sinking into the sinews of his shoulders. You knew the rhythm of his mouth now, knew when to open your lips and turn your face for him. His hands were also becoming signals for your next movements. The pads of his fingers would dig into your flesh when he wanted more, tug at you like the moon would his tides. 

You had almost forgotten the ache within your thighs, that was until one of his hands pulled you forward, stretching your muscles a little farther across his lap. You whined at the burn and he petted your backside as if to soothe your discomfort. Your dampening core nudged against the growing hardness beneath the seam of his pants.

“Ushijima…” you murmured against his mouth.

“I like how you say my name.”

An electric heat rippled through your body at his words, causing a shaky exhale to leave your parted lips.

“I want to hear you say it while stuffed with my cock.”

The sultriness sizzling under your skin xx suddenly flushed, now burning so hot it felt like your edges were ice cold.

“What?” it came out as a whisper, shaking your head in disbelief, “here? Now?”

“It’s my office and you’re mine.” 

He stated it like it was an indisputable fact, like it was the soundest reasoning, and perhaps it was. You’d gotten used to being called his property. You wore whatever he bought you, followed him whenever he beckoned, warmed his bed every night for three weeks now. You wondered if he’d ever get bored of you, or if this was merely the beginning to the rest of your life in the arms of a mob boss.

His hands moved between your bodies, shifting your weight farther back on his thighs while he pulled at the leather of his belt. Your breath hitched at the metallic clinking of the buckle; that sound always made a thrill resound through your body with him, it signaled that you should prepare itself. 

You were so effortlessly engulfed by his brawn, by the thickness of his arms and massive width of his chest. And nothing compared to what lied in wait between his thighs. You could see the outline of it now as your attention was drawn to the movements of his fingers against the button and zipper of his pants. Such a thick cock, so monstrous that the first time you’d wrapped your lips around it, tears had gathered in your lashes and poured down your cheeks—to which he’d apologized for once his cum coated your tongue. 

You surprised the both of you when your hand snaked down from his shoulder to palm at his erection, eyes wholly focused on how the black fabric of his boxer briefs gathered around the straining shaft.

“Eager?” he grunted with amusement, colossal hand encasing your wrist and encouraging your fingers to slide against him.

You didn’t have an answer for him.

Many times before, you had felt excited by the prospect of being fucked by him; he was expertly talented at it, so domineering yet attentive that you were always finding orgasmic release. 

But in the moment, you felt a pull to him like you had never experienced before. Perhaps it was the hours you’d spent spread across his lap, enveloped with his scent and feeling almost  _ important  _ in the arms of the man in charge in his workplace. Then you felt the tell-tale blooming of emotions within your chest that you had been suppressing: attachment, affection,  _ devotion _ . 

And something told you that these feelings weren’t the symptoms of a syndrome.

You crashed your lips to his, hungry for that exceptional taste, starving for the intensity of his touch. Impatiently, you lifted your hips, entangling your arms around his neck where it was dipped back against the chair to meet your ardent mouth.

Soon you felt the heat of his cock against your thigh. 

You pried his lips apart with your own, breathing into him as you begged, “Fill me up,  _ please _ .”

His hands smoothed up your legs under your dress, fingers spread wide against your skin. One finger curled against your underwear, tugging it to the side. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the slick staining your pussy. 

Then he was pulling you down. Hands were heavy on your hips, thick forearms straining to spread you slowly upon his cock instead of slamming his girth inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whispered, feeling so pliant in his hands, feeling how your flesh swelled against his grip.

“That’s right,” he responded, thick cockhead still spearing into you, “take it all.”

You slowly sucked in his cock, every familiar inch of him stretching you.

_ Fuck _ , someone that evil shouldn’t have felt so good.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of him spreading your inner walls apart and imagining that you were back in his bedroom and not in such an open space. 

Ushijima sunk his fingers into your hips a little deeper, using the strength in his brawny forearms to lift you up and down, urging you to sink farther and farther along his impossibly thick cock. 

Finally, he buried himself inside of you, bottoming out with a reverberating grunt that made your skin prickle at the sound. He kept pressure on your hips, pushing you down like you hadn’t already taken all of him inside, like you couldn’t feel the throbbing veins of his cock pulsing inside you like a heartbeat. 

“Ushi…” you whined, rolling your hips against him and letting your head fall back against gravity.

“I’ve molded you perfectly to my cock.” There was a hint of triumph on his tongue.

“Yes, yes, you feel so good,” your nails bit into his shoulders, bunching the expensive fabric of his shirt, “please move,  _ please, please _ .” 

You’d learned rather quickly that the boss loved to hear you beg. 

He stirred beneath you, broad thighs shifting apart in the chair and his hands still unyielding upon your hips. You arched your back, moaning aloud as he began to slowly thrust, keeping himself sheathed inside of you and grinding into your depths like he expected there to be more to give.

“I’ll give you anything when you beg like tha—”

A sudden succession of shrill rings cut the growing symphony of moans.

Your eyes fluttered open, now staring at the waning evening light that streamed across the ceiling as Ushijima completely stilled. 

His phone continued to ring on the desk behind you, an impatient mistress beckoning to be heard. 

He leaned forward, sighing through his nose as he removed a hand from your body and wrapped it around the phone. 

“No!” you mewled, fisting your hands into his shirt and shaking your head. 

“Hush,” he used his other hand to press against the back of your head and shoved you against his chest, making you moan as his cock found a new angle, “and stay still.”

He slid his thumb across the screen and he lifted the phone to his ear.

“What is it?” 

You could hear a garbled voice on the other side; it sounded panicked, like all the words were bleeding into one another. You tried to focus on what they were saying, but your mind was overwhelmed by the pleasure stemming from your conjoined bodies. Your breasts were trapped against his chest, your nipples straining underneath the flimsy dress he had adorned you in today. You felt so  _ full _ , so  _ used _ , and he had barely even gotten to fuck you.

“In our territory?” 

His voice was like the rumbling of thunder against your ear, his fingers like the crackling of lightning when they flexed in irritation against your hair.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from groaning at the sound of his voice.

You shifted your weight between your knees that were spread across his lap, and the subtle movement caused hot ripples of bliss to uncoil from your belly.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” you mumbled into his chest, one of your hands sliding to the back his neck to thread into his hair. You could press yourself closer now and use the leverage of your fingers in his nape to slowly move yourself along his cock. 

You were desperate for more, the ache that was once in your legs now forgotten and transmitted to your core. Your insides burned from being stretched by him and your clit was begging to brush against the base of his cock. 

“You know what must be done,” Ushijima paused when you lifted your hips slightly, your hot walls sliding against the ridge of his cock, “blood for blood.” 

You sucked in a breath with shock at his words. 

Your hips faltered in their slow pace, half of his cock still waiting to be engulfed again. 

You’d almost forgotten he was a killer, that he was the organizer of massive syndicates of crime that were wreaking havoc upon the city. 

The hand on your head snaked down your body, his heavy fingers curling into your lower back and forcing you to quickly sit back down on his cock. A loud gasp sounded from your throat and you could almost feel the glare that he directed towards you. 

“That—it’s none of your concern,” he commanded to the phone.

The snap of his hips into yours had your eyes rolling back, a sharp pleasure coursing across your body. You felt like you were at a breaking point, tears pricking your lashes at the growing impatience of your womb. Your walls were fluttering around his cock, pulling and sucking at him and begging him to grind, to shift, to just  _ move  _ again and give you another jolt of euphoria. 

You hadn't noticed you were whimpering. 

Ushijima’s fingers were suddenly in your mouth, index and middle finger slipping past your unrehearsed lips and pressing down against your tongue. 

You couldn’t help but groan around the digits, the sound muffled by skin and saliva. The fullness of your mouth matched the feeling of plenty inside of your pussy. His fingers edged dangerously close to the back of your throat and you feared to swallow, else find yourself gagging on his fingertips.

“Listen, I’m a man of honor,” he hissed, “and we cannot mimic their actions. You kill  _ him,  _ not his family.”

You choked on his words instead of his hand, the tears pricking your lashes now falling down your face. 

_ Just who was the man inside of you?  _

He nudged you with his chest, encouraging you to sit up in his lap. Like always, the beautiful man was stoic, his lips relaxed into a neutral line, but there was something malicious gleaming within his eyes. They were dancing over you like flames licking hot coals, his fingers experimentally pressing back farther into your throat to test your reflexes. 

He must have been satisfied by the sight before him: your lips wrapped around his fingers, hot, salty lines of tears painting your cheeks, your quivering pussy engulfing his cock. 

He lifted his hips against, grinding and shoving himself deeper inside of you. God it felt so  _ good  _ to move against him. You sucked against his fingers to quiet yourself as you rolled your hips against his, even daring to slide along his length. 

Ushijima hummed into his phone and you weren’t sure who it was in response to. 

“Goshiki,” it sounded like a scold, “don’t disappoint me.” 

But he was looking into your eyes.

You moved a little faster, your hands finding purchase on his knees behind you. The angle was difficult, but you were desperate. You arched your back and took his fingers deeper into your mouth, drool slipping past his fingers and onto your chin. 

There was some kind of sick confidence brewing inside of you. You had the attention of one of the city’s most dangerous men; you had his cock aching and pulsing inside of you with every sway of your hips, with every push of your thighs. Your lower body was growing tired of being so spread, but every new plunge of his cock against that deliciously soft spot of your pussy had you moving even faster in hopes of finding release.

“You heard me,” he grunted, “now do what you’re told.” 

You watched the phone go dark in his hand as his conversation ended. 

Immediately, his fingers dug into the back of your throat, causing you to gag and sputter against his fingers. All your senses were shocked. Your lungs burned as he didn’t let up, using his arm to shove you back against his desk. His newly freed hand found the flesh of your ass, fingers sinking into a bruising grip as he grabbed at you and stood.

His cock stayed still inside you as he found his footing.

He forced you to lay across his desk, one hand pushing at your thigh and the other finally leaving your mouth. 

“I told you to stay still.”

“I couldn’t help—!”

He cut off your words with a hasty kiss, his body leaning over yours as he impaled you harder upon his cock. You cried out, your mouth hungry and wet against his as this new position brought bursting pleasures sailing throughout your body. The papers upon his desk were crinkling underneath your body, curling against your skin and parodying the way you curved against your captor. 

“Say my name again,” he demanded, thumb petting your cheek and smearing drool into your skin.

The growl of his voice had that well of emotions overflowing within your chest again. Your heart strings were being pulled, wounding as tightly as the coil of pleasure within your belly. 

“Ushi—” a hard thrust, his fat cock bruising into your delicate pussy,”—jima!”

His hands moved in parallel, one slipping down to your throat as the other slid up to find the juncture of your bent knee. He gripped both areas of flesh between his thumb and forefinger, moving you like a pretty doll on string. 

Your hands felt weightless, empty even though they were full with his hair. 

There was too much power in his thrusts. Over, and over, and over again, he barreled into you, using the strength in his thighs to pound into you relentlessly, your helpless body only reacting to his presence. Your vision was going blurry, pleasure ringing in your ears and tingling down every tendril of nerves in your body. You could barely trace the lines of his body before you: his slacks were spread across his thighs, the threads clinging to pure muscle, his pristine shirt was wrinkled, nail marks etched into the fabric at his shoulders. His eyes were concentrated solely on you, devious and knowing as he followed the bouncing lines of your body.

“You look so perfect wrapped around my cock,” he grunted. 

The tension inside of your chest snapped; a melange of affections collected in your throat and then simply poured from your lips. 

“I’m yours.” 

The words felt like instinct. 

“Yes, you are.”

The snapping of his hips was fanning a fire in your core, each repetitive plunge of his cock making you gasp from the intense sensations. You were jostling back and forth now, the hand firmly pressed to your neck being the only anchor keeping you from drifting away into mindless lust. The papers below you were wrinkling against your skin and poking the edges of your dress. You felt like you were being pushed into the sea of ink, your sweat and skin bleeding into the bluish hues of illegal numbers and dangerous names.

Ushijima leaned over your body once more, his pace never faltering as he began to kiss around his fingers on your throat. You moaned wantonly, your hips attempting to match his rhythm as you felt yourself start to ascend that orgasmic ladder. Every heavy thrust was sending you up another rung, slowly pushing you towards that peak of elation.

“I wanted you…” he began, his own words getting caught up in the ecstasy coursing through his veins, “because….” 

His groans were uninhibited now, the pulsing timbre undoubtedly transversing the walls of his office.

“Please,  _ please _ …” 

You didn’t know what you were begging for. For more? For his answer? You were becoming so lost that your thoughts felt like they were melting away into his hands, into the overwhelming presence of his body inside and all around yours.

“I saw you on that screen,” his breath was so hot against your neck, his words sounding so purposely placed, “ and I just knew I could do whatever I wanted to you. I could mold you into something special for me to have.” 

Every thread of sanity that held your composure together began to unravel, your body coming undone like string falling from a spindle. 

“ _ Fuck, yes! _ ” You clamored, becoming all too  aware of how well stretched you were across the girth of his cock. He felt like burning euphoria between your legs, cock deliciously drumming against every inch of your insides. You could feel the head of his cock skimming against your walls with every thrust, could feel his chest against yours, his fingers sinking into your skin, his teeth now digging into your shoulder. You were desperate for him, so frantic to quell the orgasmic itch, thatand you were putty in his hands, just how he wanted you. 

“You feel so good,” you panted, your inner walls clenching and unclenching so deliciously tight against his substantial cock, “please let me cum, Ushijima, please,  _ please, pl _ —!”

Your sounds were silenced when his hand glided quickly from your leg to your pussy, his thick thumb drawing tight circles on your aching clit. The bursting pleasure had you ascending to new heights, the rhythmic building of orgasm now shattered as he brought you into rapture.

You cried out as you fell apart, wave after wave of euphoria washing over your body as you fell into delirium. It felt like every single nerve ending was exploding with white hot heat, ecstasy and pleasure releasing in intensities that only Ushijima could bring you. 

You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you; he had stopped his thrusting, the outbreak of ecstasy knocking over him as well, your cunt squeezing and milking his cock so effortlessly that he wondered if he had made you or some divine being had blessed him with your willing womb.

You felt full and finally sated, your heartbeat like a bird thrashing within a cage.

For a moment, you laid there, chests heaving as your minds unfogged from the thick hazes of lust. You wondered briefly if these overwhelming feelings —passion, yearning,  _ attachment _ —you wondered if they would fade as the love hormones of sex dissipated. But they didn’t. The emotions lingered, thickening through your body and mind like the sweetest honey flowing through your veins. 

Your nails gently caressed his head, tempting him to rise from where he was nestled into your neck. His massive hand finally released your throat.

You brought his mouth back to yours, kissing him so sweetly that it was as if his cock wasn’t still stretching you open.

“I think I’ll get used to being with you,” you lulled against his lips.

You were just a plaything to string along, a possession to enjoy however he pleased. 

And you had no power to stop him, not that you wanted to.

  
  
  
  



End file.
